The dark shape stood its ground like an unyielding rock.

Jack’s mouth fell open and Vickie’s face froze while she remained firmly seated in the car. The figure’s unusual condition sent a shiver down her spine.

The wind whispered through the rustling leaves while the crows stood motionless, perched on branches and wires, their usual caws silenced. Then, faint, ghostly voices drifted and resounded through the woods and then dissolved into the vast sky. Jack’s breaths grew quick and shallow while his hands trembled as he searched for the source that slipped just beyond reach. His eyes met the dark figure which stood like a statue with its fixed gaze on him.

Grounded in the car, Vickie’s heart pounded at each step Jack took toward the silhouette. She hollered for him to return to her.

A sudden crack of thunder burst. She jumped.

A fork of lightning illuminated the dark sky for a brief moment.

The shadowy shape flickered out of sight. Jack flinched. He then turned around to join Vickie, but his foot slammed against the slab. He palmed the gritty surface of a plank embedded in the earth. The intense, burning rush of atoms in his blood caused him to howl in sheer pain.

Vickie stepped up and joined him. As Jack struggled to pull himself up, his eyes were drawn to an unusual object nestled in the dirt beneath him. He squinted, then attempted to tap the earth but yelped as the pain in his palms felt like needles and pricks. He took a deep breath and rubbed his palms. His fingers then sifted through the cool dirt, felt the fine grainy texture as he combed and wiped with his bare hands. Jack’s fingers found a soft spot and exposed the plank’s surface.

She leaned forward and dusted the earth off the plank swiftly while her eyes were glossy. He wiped the surface clean and ran his finger around the mysterious shape. His fingers traced the line. It had a rectangular shape. He ran a fingernail on the surface, then grabbed the edges with his fingertips and shook the plank.

Dust exploded then rose to Jack’s nose and eyes. He coughed and stepped back a few paces before waving his hand at the cloud of dust to clear his view. When he resumed, his hands felt a sudden draft coming in from the cracks between the plank and the earth. Jack rolled his soiled sleeves up and tried to lift the plank which was stuck in the dirt. He clasped the sides of the plank with his blistered fingers and lifted the thing. The plank snapped off its hinges exposing the buried wooden frame. He then pitched the plank aside. She raised her brows. His eyes scanned the odd-shaped structure in the frame, on the earth, wondering what it was. Vickie dug in, reaching for a granular substance. Jack placed his hands on the coarse, gritty substance and then grasped it. It turned out to be a bone. Vickie dug into the dirt and found tiny bones. Jack screamed in pain as the bone temperature changed, heating up significantly. He dropped the bone. Vickie grabbed the small bones and quickly experienced a burning sensation, causing her to let go of the small bones.

Then, distorted voices assaulted their ears.

Suddenly, a light emanated from the bone pit. Beams of light shot upwards from the bones, resembling a spotlight. As the light beams hit them, Jack and Vicky shielded their eyes with their hands.

The pit quaked, the couple lost their balance and fell. Then, a shape rose from the pit.

In the dim hall,
No barking
And no clawing on concrete.
With your chin buried in the pillow,
Staring blankly at the ceiling,
You were unaware your fate was sealed.

Gazing through the window,
Your shadow crept upon you,
There was no escape.

The sun ascended
And the oppressive heat hung in the air.
You stared through the window
And flinched.

The ticking of the clock,
Echoed in the hollow hall.
Then came the phone call.
They shipped you,
A thousand miles away from the smell of bleach
And cold bars.
You found a new home,
Wagged your tail,
Barked with delight
And tap-danced all day long.

When I called you,
You howled all night long.
Your soundtrack,
Oh, so loud.

Journeys spent on clawing challenging winding trails,
On steep mountains through endless rough barks,
With the salty sea breeze,
That cooled you with relief.

The sudden jolts of frantic speed,
A wide smile lit up your face.
And your stamping on the grass,
Your ears flopped.

Your brindle coat,
So soft,
Snuggling in the tangle of sheets.

A sneaky scavenger!
Chewed phones and flops,
So intrusive,
We laughed along.

The sea,
So fearful.
In time,
A wave of joy washed over you.
You uncovered rocks and shells
And dragged them to the shore.

Your face painted white,
Gray streaks marked your brindle coat.
The staircase,
The labored breaths
And your shadow cast on the wall,
Followed you along.
The stiff paws
And the painful sob that throttled your throat.

The heavy blanket embraced you,
Surrounded you with glittering stars,
You found a new home.

A powerful gust blew as the gray clouds hovered above the jagged peaks. On Sunset Trail Route 6 in Stoneway, a black SUV thundered. Hovering above the road, eagles soared and black seagulls perched on the sagging wires overseeing the road.
Vickie was in the front passenger seat with a smile that lit up her face. Towering steeple churches, faded Victorian homes with white picket fences and century-old shops slid past her window.

Ahead, on the winding isolated coastal highway of New Inverness, Jack steered the wheel through rolling hills, dramatic sea cliffs and the rush of seething waves clashing against the boulders on the shore. Sea kayakers paddled along the intimidating granite drop.

The charcoal heights turned darker and grew steeper as the vehicle climbed up through the unbroken forest. The SUV’s roar overrode the silence as they distanced from civilization. Then, a silhouette loomed beside the lonely lifeless oak tree and tall rustling reeds. A cluster of crows seated on the dangling branches and let out a guttural croak altogether. Vickie’s spine tingled as she gazed at the dark shape’s blurry facial features. Jack’s eyes widened in the mirror and he slammed on the brakes. The tires screeched to a halt facing the silhouette standing beside the dead wood.

Legend speaks of spectral black dogs haunting the marshlands and villages of East Anglia for centuries, their eerie howls echoing through the night. They are a portal, a swirling vortex of shadows and darkness, a harbinger of impending doom.

People have spotted them at dusk, flitting near roads, bridges, crossroads, train tracks and cemeteries, their presence leaving witnesses in chilling silence after they vanish. The black dog’s deep, guttural howls, echoing through the night, filled the locals with dread. They described the creature as being the size of a Great Dane, or perhaps even a calf, standing three feet tall with a thick, shaggy coat the color of dried leaves, their eyes gleaming like embers in the dim light.

On my recent journey to the furthest point of Nova Scotia’s Meat Cove, where curious seals, impressive whales and diving seabirds animate the ocean.

Endless ridgeways and whispering trees

stretched to the lonely eternal valleys.

Soaring rugged mountains with blushing gravel

and verdant meadows settled eons ago,

surrounded the webbed maze of pathways.

The leaves rustled in the wind.

The midnight crows perched on the decaying willow tree

and cawed as their voices echoed,

signifying a milestone.

The clouds softened,

beliefs thickened.

The mist scattered,

lies dissipated to truth.

The rows of tombstones

and the stones that once composed the walls,

lay scattered and broken.

As I treaded the one-way path unaccompanied,

a stone house with a thatched roof rose,

a haven for creation.

The vistas of awe-inspiring eternal mountains,

the glittering sea breathing timelessly,

and the scent of everlasting sweet pine trees,

I felt a wave of contentment wash over me.

They had warned the locals

The clock was ticking.

When the wind whistled,

I rushed to the window,

And gazed at the shadows on the street

Which were cast by the uncanny street lamp.

The wind cursed,

The lights flickered.

The wind howled deafeningly,

Sparks flashed from the lines above,

And the lights died.

Midnight struck—approaching bedtime

The mad wind battered my home

I barreled upstairs,

And I hopped in my bed

In the oppressive darkness.

The torrential downpour pelted the steel roof and siding,

I gave ear to my heart, pounding aloud.

As I was lying down,

The lantern in the hall flickered

I could see through the second-story window in the shadowy hall,

The tall matchstick trees in my backyard dancing erratically,

Performing threatening contortions

I pulled my blanket up.

What was that noise?

I dashed to the window,

And my eyes peeled

Uprooted trees full of wisdom laid across the sidewalk

I never witnessed mother nature so upset.

The utility wires waved, snapped,

And whipped the damaged properties mercilessly

More clusters of distorted trees tilted and collapsed helplessly

Agonized souls stormed out of their dwellings,

With eyes raining

My face dropped,

As I watched with terror.

The wind cried,

I jumped back in bed

The floor and walls shook,

The Gods grew angrier than ever

The foundations rattled,

And my teeth chattered

As I feared the unknown.

Turned a blind eye

To wildfires, floods, and plagues.

Turned a deaf ear

To prophecies.

I knew the malevolent force would destroy the oasis that had once surrounded me

On this timeless night.

Illustration by Art Young

The wilting mortal drew close

to the soaring sanctuary that pulsed

among the infinite stars.

Youthful and cheerful,

the soul once swam with joy,

graceful and full of life.

Then, worn and torn, and sombrous,

the soul bathed in tears in oblivion,

scarred and chained at death’s door.

The wind howled,

the angels cried.

Voices from the darkness thundered,

the beast called.

A sea of hands rose from the black river.

They clamped and pulled the lifeless soul

to the gloomy horizon.

It was past midnight.

A bolt of lightning struck.

The lonesome dragon flashed its fangs.

Thunder clapped.

The dragon howled at the beasts that lurked in his cave.

The clouds burst.

The dragon spat fireballs at the shadowy beasts.

The mist cleared.

The dragon soared into the gloomy sky.